Mass Effect: Spiral Nebula
by WordsmithofIron
Summary: His old man had always wanted him to become a legend, someone to be respected. He chose a different path. His name struck fear into his enemies. He was known throughout the galaxy as a force to be reckoned with. He carved a bloody path throughout history all in search of a way home. The place he truly belonged.


**Hello folks, life treating you good? If not, that's really too bad…**

**I'm here bringing you a very new Idea and first timer for me, my very own Mass Effect and Naruto crossover. This idea came to me in the midst of playing Batman oddly enough…I have no real idea why. My mind has been all over the place lately. But I guess it doesn't really matter because it's the GODDAMN BATMAN!**

**I feel like this sucks so I'll say it. Boohoo, I've got no confidence. Anyway, here we go.**

* * *

_**Mass Effect: Spiral Nebula**_

* * *

**1st Orbit: Folklore – **_**Gravity has proven; shit does indeed 'roll downhill'.**_

'_I've always loved it when people tell stories about me.'_

Amongst the loud energetic music, the flashing multicolored light schemes and the diverse crowd. One specific patron, a Caucasian male, sat in the very back of the illustrious night club, casually sipping from a tall glass and surveying the scenery.

'_I think the reason I love it so much is because they are always different somehow…'_

His eyes locked onto a specific figure, as they desperately weaved in and out of the crowd. As if trying to avoid something…or _someone._

He sighed and pushed the half-finished beverage to the side of the small booth. Brushing aside a flaxen bang, he pushed himself up from his spot at the booth and began the process of weaving through the crowd, following after the silhouette.

'_I might be a lonely spacer, or a misguided hero, sometimes I'm even a bastard merc. But no matter how different they may be, they always have one recurring theme…'_

He silently pondered how his target knew he was approaching, but decided to leave it up to bad Intel. It didn't matter to him, they wouldn't get away. He just didn't like the idea of having to shove his way through a crowd of drunken night clubbers.

He saw the figure slip out of the crowd and immediately head for the exit of the night club. They were certainly making haste.

'_No matter who tells them, I'm always portrayed as a sad and misunderstood kid looking for salvation. That I'm stuck in an endless cycle of violence and hatred…'_

He felt for the sheathed dagger hidden inside his dark red jacket. Thumbing the grip, he continued pushing his way through the crowd, hand still tucked away. When he finally made it to the entrance of the club, he slowed his approach, not wanting to give himself away.

Beads of sweat began to gather at his brow…this was going to be the hard part.

'_It's hilarious really, all the nicknames they give me, all the labels and categories…'_

The doors of **Afterlife** hissed as they slid apart revealing the entrance walk way. Immediately, the man grew hesitant. The room was almost completely dark, save for the dim, orange walk way lights famous throughout all of **Omega**. So far he couldn't see a soul…

That was certainly bad news.

He silently drew the dagger knife hidden inside of his jacket. With the dagger firmly held in his grasp, he readied himself for danger, eyes darting around the room trying to locate his target.

'_Though I prefer the one I took for myself, a little tidbit from some Earthling crackerjack Merc. It's a name I'm quite fond of and one that is well known throughout certain crowds…'_

While he didn't get a good enough look at the target before they left, he was almost certain they weren't wearing any type of special camouflage. He'd hoped that wasn't the case. Cloaking technology annoyed him to no end, and he was already hard pressed just to use the blade. Not having enough money to afford a simple pistol had a tendency to limit your options when it came to assassinations.

Plus, there was the added threat that his target could be a potential biotic, and that was always unsettling.

He stopped short of the exit of the night club walkway, silently pondering why the doors at this end didn't open.

Perhaps it was just a short in the circuit, or maybe someone on the other end acting rowdy. It didn't make much of a difference. There was more than one way to leave **Afterlife**.

'_**Ragnarok**__. It's from the Norse mythology I think. If I remember correctly, it means the "End" or something like that. Hell, I just thought it sounded cool so I took it for myself.'_

His heart skipped a beat when he felt something brush against his hand. In a panic, he spun around, weapon raised, poised to strike-

And found himself staring at blank space.

He didn't breath. A tingling sensation at the back of his neck kept his sense alert. Survival instinct kept him from spinning around.

A few seconds passed as he stood, stiff as a board, eyes frantically shooting back and forth across the room trying to find the assailant, hoping that he COULD find him, or rather, trying to convince himself that he COULD be found.

'_I almost wish the stories didn't bring me so much damn trouble though. Every now and then you get a few morons who feel like they have to prove a point or something like that. Foolish pride at its finest…'_

He visibly flinched when he felt someone's warm breath against his ear. He caught a faint whisper of "Silly boy" from behind. Fear took over.

He spun around, ignoring his better judgment not to do so, and struck out with the knife.

Even though he couldn't see what he was slashing at, he felt the tug of resistance as the knife tore against something…_someone._

He heard a shuffling sound and then a heavy thud.

He let out a gasp when he saw the pool of red streak down from seemingly nowhere. Seconds later, a body started to shimmer into existence. Whatever camouflage they were using seemed to have deactivated now.

With the target visible, he could finally get a good look at their appearance.

He was already aware of their status as a male, and his appearance, but now that he was seeing them up-close and not by view of a data pad posting, he could get a better feel for the man before him. He was surprised by the radiance of his greased blonde hair, as it seemed to shine even in the dim wake of the walkway, the healthy glow of his peach skin ,the deep crimson of his pupils, as they stared up at the ceiling blankly. His face contorted in a painful grimace as the blood continued to spill from the fresh gash on his throat.

This was the guy who had killed countless innocents? The Terrorist?

This pitiful, dead fool was the supposed _Mad Dog of Elysium_?

If so, he had gotten a lucky strike in.

No, _lucky_ couldn't begin to describe this situation.

He had just single handedly assassinated the man rumored to have killed entire platoons of mercenaries with his bare hands alone, a man rumored to be _Immortal_. Perhaps those stories of his battle prowess were exaggerations.

His mind began to shift to a darker train of thought.

He'd done it. He had actually done it.

He had done what hundreds before him had failed to. He alone killed the _Undying Soldier_. With a swelled pride, he turned around and started walking back towards the entrance to the club, placing the dagger back in its scabbard. Such a primitive tool, and yet the most efficient.

He had just felled the legendary _Ragnarok_ with a mere dagger knife…

Oh the irony…

His steps slow and measured, same as before. His mind racing as the thrill of the kill started to catch up with him. Now all he had to do was return to his employer and inform him of the assignments completion, collect his pay, and live the rest of his days as a legend. As the man who killed a legend. He didn't even bother to think why he was called the 'Undying' or 'Immortal'. Too caught up in his future glory, the promises of fame and fortune that waited as he reached the door to the club. Tempting fate, he turned his head to give the body a once over for the last time…

And he felt his very soul lurch.

At the very end of the room, stretching as though nothing had happened was a clearly-still-living, _Ragnarok_, rubbing his now gash-less throat, cheerfully smiling as though he had never had it slashed in the first place.

That smile sent chills down his spine. The way his thin lips stretched across his face seemed so…sadistic. The way he was looking, it made him feel as though he were a piece of meat ready for the grill.

As he noticed the man moving closer and closer towards him, he suddenly found himself unable to move. As though he were in some sort of dark trance. His body began to shake, his eye lids suddenly heavy. An overwhelming sense of dread blew over him like a cruel, harsh wind.

"Imagine my surprise…" _Ragnarok's_ voice was hoarse, probably due to having his throat slit. He spoke as he steadily closed the gap between the two, lazily rubbing his fully healed throat. "I was just heading out to take a piss when all of the sudden, some mook with a knife tries to give me a set of gills." He was much closer now, letting the man see how the blood had stained his white tank top. Somehow it only served to make him seem more ominous.

The man stopped when he felt his back hit the entrance door to the night club. _'Why! Why won't it open?_'He silently prayed it was just a simply delay, that it would open and he would fall inside the night club. At this point, crying for help would be useless, the doors were much too thick for any noise to be heard and the music was far too loud anyway.

He noticed too much about the man before him. How they shared the same touch of average height; had the same slim but well defined build. He saw how his hair seemed to form large golden tufts pointing in every direction, how he appeared much more sinister up close or how his pupils had a translucent effect seemingly glowing in the dark.

On the other hand, _Ragnarok_ regarded the man before him with barely restrained amusement. Whoever hired this poor, pale-skinned, scrawny man, obviously didn't know about his skill set. Or they just didn't give a damn whether or not he got the job done.

He would have to enjoy this chance to show off, at least before he got down to business.

"So, I'm curious…" he started, his tone much more smooth and even than before. His throat felt much better. He noticed how the man's hands went inside his jacket. '_Probably for that knife…'_ He gave a brief chuckle before continuing "What exactly were you going to do with a _knife_?" The arching of one of his golden brows told the man he was both amused and genuinely curious. Perhaps it was a bit stupid to believe he could kill him with a simple knife, but then technically, he _had_ _killed _him with a_ simple knife._

"I-it was for s-s-stealth." He stuttered out, fear nipping at his heart. He knew by the way _Ragnarok_ was eyeing him; death was only a hairs breath away. "I didn't want to g-get caught and my boss wanted m-me to keep it nice and c-c-clean."

The shaking of his voice and the idea made _Ragnarok_ laugh.

Humans would never cease to amaze him with their hubris. "So you figured you'd keep a nice, low profile and use a knife? Haven't you ever heard the phrase 'never bring a knife to a gun fight'?" He watched as the man's lowered his head, rubbing his palms against his beige pants and gazing at his black boots while he did so. Nervousness? Embarrassment? Apparently he had not. _Ragnarok_ let out a sigh of disappointment. "Let me guess, first time on Omega?" he nodded and _Ragnarok_ sighed again. "Figured as much. Who sent you?"

"F-Fist…"

"Fist eh? Why am I not surprised?" He saw _Ragnarok_ reach behind his back and pull out a locked pistol and cursed under his breath, he should've known he wasn't unarmed.

"Yep, that switch from the Citadel to Omega can be a real ball buster. Nobody around here gives two fucks about what goes on as long as it doesn't directly involve them…" He heard the sound of the pistol unlocking and knew _Ragnarok_ had it aimed at his head. "Pity too, if you'd known that I'm sure you would have had a better chance of surviving this little play date…" he half sighed.

"But hey, shoulda, coulda, _didn't_…"

"P-p-please don't shoot me…I-god, please just let me go…" his voice was barely above a whisper. His arms flailing helplessly at his side.

If possible, _Ragnarok's_ smile stretched further along his narrow face. "Now why should I do that? You were pretty confident after you slashed me up back there. I'd dare say you were going to celebrate. What possible reason could I have to spare your miserable life?" Though he worded it like a question, it was anything but.

"I can give you information…I know wh-" he was cut off by the pistol pressing up against his right cheek. _Ragnarok_ beamed.

"I already know all I need too. Fist hired you, you're from the Citadel, and you suck at killing people. What could a guy who doesn't even know his way around Omega have to offer me?"

He received no reply. There was none to give.

"Good, now shut up and take your slug like a man."

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to distance his mind. He briefly wondered what death would feel like. Would he feel anything? Was he going to hell or heaven? Would he finally meet his father?

Time seemed to move agonizingly slow as seconds stretched by. Still, no gunshot, no bludgeon, not even a click or tease of the trigger.

When he felt the barrel lift from his cheek he became confused. He cracked one eye open and dared a glance. _Ragnarok_ was still there, gun hanging lazily at his side as he stared at the ceiling, seemingly contemplating something. "Hmmm…"

The tense atmosphere was replaced by a rather awkward silence as they stood there for what felt like hours.

Finally, _Ragnarok_ spoke, his voice as calm and even as before. "What's your name?" That served to further his confusion. Maybe he had some kind of honor code?

"C-Calvin, Calvin Roads." He spoke softly, not wanting to set the man off in anyway.

When _Ragnarok_ lowered his head to eye level, Calvin's entire mood changed. Dull Gray met…Blue?

The man's pupils, previously crimson, had now turned a dark shade of cerulean. _'Biotic Implants maybe?' _That sense of paralyzing fear also seemed to vanish with this cosmetic change.

_Ragnarok_ sighed before locking the gun and placing it back behind his waist. "Well, it's your lucky day Calvin. I don't usually do this, but I'm going to let you live, on two conditions. First, I want you to go tell Fist I'm coming…oh and tell him not to bother with running. He's got enough trouble as it is…" Ignoring Calvin's flabbergasted look, he touched a series of small buttons on a bulky device attached to his right wrist, a few seconds later the doors to both the nightclub and the exit flew open. "And second, give me your jacket. I think that's a fair trade considering you ruined my shirt…" Calvin didn't need to be told twice. Within seconds he slipped out of the jacket and handed to the other man. He was silently thankful for wearing the green undershirt; it was rather hot inside **Omega**.

_Ragnarok_ stared at the jacket in his hand for a few seconds and then looked back at Calvin, amused expression changing to a sneer.

"Now get the hell out of my sight before I change my mind…" not needing to be told twice, Calvin shot off in a hurry, towards the exit of the nightclub and out into the streets of **Omega**.

_Ragnarok_ looked down at his shirt and let out an annoyed groan. "I really, _really_ have to get my Omni-tool back." he tore the ruined shirt off with little effort, wiping at the blood stains on his chest and neck. Nothing could break his stride as he marched back into the club, ignoring the bewildered looks of the party goers as he slipped on his brand new and completely free red jacket.

His mind was running a mile a minute. Maybe it was time for him to come out of his self-imposed _exile_ after all…

* * *

_{Break}_

* * *

There were very few people that would willingly call **Omega** a home. To most, **Omega** was anything but. It was a haven for petty thieves, rapists, murderers, failures, merc's, you name it. A veritable safe haven for the scum of the galaxy.

There was no law in **Omega**, no set of standards, no rules…

Well, except for one teensy _little_ detail…

Don't. Fuck. With. Aria.

"You're not fucking with me are you? Because you know how I feel about people fucking with me. You're telling me you're going to give that pissball Fist the time of day?" A very Irate Aria T'Loak, self-proclaimed ruler of **Omega**, shouted as she slammed her small fists down on the small coffee table she usually used to prop her feet on.

Her four body guards tensed, it was usually a very bad thing to see the **Asari** pissed off, but something about the blond man in front of them seemed to bring out the worst in her.

Somehow he'd survived her wrath for almost an entire year, and even had the nerve to continuously provoke her.

_Ragnarok_ made a habit of always taking the time to apprise the women he found in front of him. While he wasn't too big on **Asari**, he found her exotic plum flavored skin attractive. The way her nostrils flared when she shouted at him…Oh Christ! Was he getting off from her temper tantrums? He knew he enjoyed a feisty woman every now and then but that was just too much. Things like that usually lead to submissive relationships and S&M….

Now he went and scared himself, mental shudder.

He'd already taken more than enough physical and mental abuse from _her_, no need to dive deeper in the rabbit hole. Drawing a deep breath, he shook the thoughts away and focused on calmly replying to her tirade.

"It's not like he doesn't deserve it. Fist has been a pain in my ass since day one. Besides, I'm tired of the whole 'you're in hiding' thing. I don't do 'hide'. I'm more of a 'kill anything that saw me' kinda guy, you get me? There's no need for stealth if everybody in the room is dead." he added a casual wag of the eyebrows to get his point across.

Aria gave a curt laugh and turned her attention to the steps leading back to the dance floor. She was rather fond of her lounge, but sometimes she had to fight the urge to break a table over someone's head.

"Sure, whatever. All I'm saying is that you really shouldn't risk your ass for someone as insignificant as Fist. He dug his own grave when he decided to cross blades with the Shadow Broker. You're getting involved is just gross overkill. And you seem to have forgotten, you're not very welcome in Citadel Space."

_Ragnarok_ shrugged, unconcerned "Be that as it may, I really don't have any real reason NOT to kill him. He's a pain in my ass, knows where I'm hiding, and has a pension for ratting someone out when it's convenient for him. I can't really have someone like that running around, now can I?"

He received no reply. He assumed Aria had either lost interest in the argument, or simply found no faults in his reasoning, but he figured it was probably the former. He leaned back further into the black couch and let out a sigh of content. It was a good thing Aria invested in a cooling unit for her lounge. **Afterlife** had a tendency to get random heat waves, what with all of the people huddled on the dance floor and bar. And _no one_ wanted to smell sweaty **Krogan**.

Aria turned her head back to the main source of her irritation. Her brown eyes narrowed as he leaned back on the couch to her left, seemingly carefree. That was a trait that annoyed her to no end. No matter what transpired, he could always be seen with that same cheerful expression on his face. Smiling as though he were some hapless idiot.

But she knew better, she had seen the depths of his mind. She knew what kind of person he was. He was ANYTHING BUT a cheerful idiot, and she felt a brief sting of pity for anyone who actually bought the act he put on.

It was because of this that she wasn't even mildly curious as to the origins of the specs of blood on his black pants. Knowing him, it was probably a clean kill. She watched him fumble with the buckles of his black boots.

She hated to admit, but everything about _Ragnarok_ was shrouded in mystery. All she knew was his name, his lifestyle, and his vices. She knew he was a man that preferred to make as much noise as possible whenever possible, lazed about like it was nobody's business, could rack up a multimillion credit debt faster than a pack **Vorcha** could spawn and had a propensity to kill anything that rubbed him the wrong way (which was usually everything.)

The only thing she knew beyond that was his real name, not the fake ones he usually gave everyone else. It was more of a business practice. She had a right to know who she was hiding in her station after all. Plenty of people came to **Omega** seeking refuge from the law. Most of them were either too scared to deal with that kind of pressure or simply wanted to live away from all of the dangers of the Merc's who would hunt them down.

It was a rather stupid move considering **Omega** was famous for having the **Blood Pack**, **The Blue Suns** and **The Eclipse **Merc's locked in a constant turf war. What was that old human idiom? 'Out of the frying pan, into the supernova?'

Still, _he_ was…different. When he'd first arrived she thought little of him. She'd heard stories about him; most of them seemed too farfetched to ever be true. His name had spread like wildfire throughout the Terminus systems.

A supposedly _ruthless_ killer with a pension for destruction of public property. Sounded like any old merc she's seen here.

It wasn't until he stormed into **Afterlife**, demanding that she provide him with a place to hide, that she began to question his sanity. After that whole little fiasco, she began to believe the stories…

…Well, the ones that said he was a borderline psychopath and a terrific fighter. Who else could take on 10 of her best armed guards and walk out of the club without so much as a scratch?

Still, every time he was around her she had to fight the urge to delve deeper. To know more about him. To solve this mysterious enigma.

Something about him brought out the **Asari** in her, a part she'd left behind long ago…

And that just flat out pissed her off.

"Whatever. You wanna leave, cool. Just don't come crying back to me when shit rolls downhill. I swear, sometimes you're no different than a human." She mumbled that last bit.

_Ragnarok_ moved his hand over his heart in a show of emotional pain "Gasp, I thought you liked that about me? My pseudo human nature is one of my many charms."

Aria didn't miss a beat "And it's something that makes you remarkably annoying."

"And here I thought we were becoming friends. You wound me, Oh-Great-Ruler of Crime Land."

Aria leaned back in her seat, shifting her gaze to the ceiling. She did enjoy having a conversation with someone who wasn't afraid of her. Very few people had the nerve to talk to her that way. "You still owe me 250,000 credits. As far as I'm concerned your ass is mine until you pay it off…with interest might I add?"

_Ragnarok_ feigned a depressed pout "I don't have that kind of _moooooney_. I'm the most brokenessly broke guy in the history of broke. Why do you think I had to borrow money from you in the first place?"

"Bullshit. You could easily do a few high paying merc runs. It'd be a walk in the park for someone like you. Maybe then you'd actually stop killing my men."

_Ragnarok_ bit back a growl. He despised the idea of working for someone else. It went against his code of immorality. "Been there, done that. I don't want to run around the galaxy because someone with a big finger told me to kill someone else. I kill who I want, when I want and because I want too. I don't take orders from anyone. At all. Ever." Too emphasize his point, his sapphire eyes flashed a deep crimson for a fraction of a second, letting her know the subject was a dead one.

Aria had to admit it to herself, he held that one value above all else, since she had known him. When she offered him a job as a body guard, he abruptly turned her down stating he didn't work for ANYONE. **The** **Blue Suns **offered him a job; he turned them down and then gutted the recruiters. Hell, he even turned her down when it concerned him working to pay back the money he owed her.

Normally people who owed her money paid with their lives and don't get her wrong, she tried to collect several times. She sent Merc after Merc on his tail and each time they came back…well, he came back, dragging their bloody and disfigured corpse through the streets of **Omega** and kindly depositing it on her doorstep.

Soon enough a second _'rule'_ began to form on **Omega**.

Don't. Fuck. With. Ragnarok.

She could not and absolutely would not have that, so she sent a little _'welcoming party'_ to his apartment. 20 or so armed guys, consisting of a few **Asari** Biotics, a few **Krogan** stragglers and a group of rough neck **Batarians**…the rest cannon fodder. They were easily some of the roughest and toughest **Omega** had to offer, battle hardened veterans each ready to throw their lives away for the pursuit of glory and vast fortunes.

And yet, to her amazement, not a single one of them came back alive…

So yes, she could obviously attest to his skills as a fighter and a ruthless bastard. After the fifth or so attempt at trying to kill him, she just kind of gave up. The few times she succeeded…she still failed…

Confusing?

"I'll talk to somebody about getting you a way to The Citadel; of course this will cost you an extra 75,000 credits. Make sure you're at the docks in an hour."

_Ragnarok_ didn't respond, by now his mind was wandering towards other, more interesting things, namely dinner. He hadn't planned on anything in particular…maybe Macaroni? Mashed potatoes? Poverty was a powerful enemy; he missed five course meals…

Then again he was on **Omega**…it was wise not to trust anything pre-made. And most **Turian **dishes scared him.

"You can leave now…I'm tired of looking at you." He didn't even twitch. His boots were dirty…he'd need to clean them later.

"Seriously, leave…" she didn't want to plead, but he was really starting to annoy her.

He scratched at the side of his torso, eyes still glued to his boots, sitting completely still. How exactly was he going to kill Fist, gun or knife? Gun or knife? Fist, gun, knife or sword?

Gun…definitely gun.

With his mind made up, he got up from his cozy seat on the couch and left down the steps from Aria's lounge, whistling as he made his way through the party goers.

Aria's body guards let their shoulders fall to rest, relieved to have a break from all the tension. Whenever he came around, things seemed to…get violent.

Near the steps of the lounge, one of the armored guards, a brown scaled **Turian**, kept his eyes trained on the blond as he left through the large doors of **Afterlife**. Unable to keep his thoughts to himself he voiced his concerns "I really don't see why that guy's so dangerous. He looks like any other human I've seen."

A guard next to him, a **Batarian**, shook his head at the lesser experienced merc's plight. Of course it was expected for a newbie to make that kind of mistake. "He's the reason you even got your job, _Newbie_." He looked down at his sleek **Avenger** brand assault rifle and thumbed at the trigger "That '_human'_ is probably one of the most dangerous men on Omega…next to Solus."

The **Turian** didn't buy it "I don't see how he's so '_dangerous'_. He looks like an idiot…"

Moklan, **Batarian** mercenary and veteran bastard, actually had to fight to keep a grin from appearing "And that, dearest Newbie, is why you'd die _first_."

* * *

_{Break}_

* * *

There was just something about his apartment that seemed to annoy him. Something about the small and dirty, one bedroom hive that drove him up the wall. It may have something to do with the fact that it smelled like sweaty **Batarian**, or the blood stains that wouldn't come out of the ceiling, but _something_ definitely gave him bad vibes.

'_Oh well, time to get ready for my date. I wonder what I should _wear_ to Chora's Den.' _the room space was indeed limited. One side of the room was sit-in Kitchen, the other filled by a dirty mattress and a nightstand with a lamp. Discarded clothing lie scattered across the dirty red carpet. This apartment, much like the rest of **Omega**, was a pisshole. No windows, one door, and the lack of a shower in the bathroom could really get to a person. But when you were on the run from the law, what more could you expect?

The only redeeming quality was the large closet space. One side of the wall was a retractable door, large enough to hide a few king sized **Krogan** inside. Of course the only thing he ever considered putting inside of it was trash but it was the thought that counted.

On the top shelf of the closet was a large, metallic, silver carrying case. It was a rather simple set up, but it did the trick. Most off world scanners these days tended to overlook the simple things such as knives and earthling weaponry and devices. For good reason of course, but they still had their uses. This was the main reason that most earthly relics were considered treasures for their use during smuggling runs and assassinations.

He grabbed the case by the handle and pulled it from the closet. Out of the few things he owned, this was by far the most important.

Satisfied with the hefty weight of the contents, he made his way out of his stinky apartment. He still had plenty of time before he needed to be at the docks and he was in need of a few _items_…

It was time to pay a visit to the clinic…

* * *

_{Break: Security Outpost}_

* * *

At the Clinic security outpost, there wasn't much to do aside from watching the surveillance monitors. Occasionally you got to squeeze off a few slugs at a straggling **Vorcha** or argue with some disgruntled **Batarian** but those times were far and few in between.

To put it simply, life as a security personnel was utterly boring. Sure, you got to hold onto kickass **Alliance** grade armaments and stand in front of a few _security _mech's like a badass, but at the end of the day it was just another day job.

A day job that paid extremely well…

With the way the neighborhood was set up, it was easy to find yourself in a bad situation. That rustic orange scenery, the small crowded always, the cramped building space, and the smog like fumes of the exhaust vents…all this did was set an atmosphere for the area, confirming **Omega's** status as a pisshole. If you wanted a better opinion though, a resident of **Omega** would tell you the residential district of **Omega** was just a set of narrow corridors…full of surprises.

Every now and then though, a few surprises could spring up. Surprises like say, a scandalous love affair or perhaps a drunken brawl. More frightful surprises like a well-known fugitive casually skipping past your station, whistling Dixie and holding a random suitcase full of god knows what.

'_What the hell?' _Michael Steets, clinic security, ogled the spectacle in front of him. It wasn't everyday he was graced with the presence of a universe renowned psychopath, much less one _skipping_ about. Sadly, for all his leisure time, there were in times when he needed to do his job…and now was the time…

"Hold it, _Uzumaki_…" He called, his deep voice holding an air of authority. Said person stopped in mid stride, his posture became rigid. His head turned in Michael's direction, pleasant expression replaced with one of utter annoyance.

"What the hell have I told you about using my name in public, _asshole_?" The man growled. The silver suitcase hung loosely at his side. Michael went over the man's appearance and sighed. Michael ran a hand though his short brown hair trying to relieve the frustration. Some things would never change…

"You come here often enough, there's no such thing as _anonymity_ in a _clinic_. Now what are you doing here and what's in the case?"

The man named Uzumaki shrugged "I'm on my way to visit the good doctor. As for the case…" he took a second to look around, like he was on the verge of revealing a great secret "It's my prescription. Now are you going to let me in? Or am I going to have to kick the door down?"

Turning around to a set of door controls, Michael seemed to contemplate the decision. While he had nothing against the blond man, he did have reservations about letting him in the clinic as often as he was allowed. Friendship with the doctor be damned, he didn't trust the man.

Then again he did help the patients out more times than he could count…

He punched a few buttons on the panel and the large metal shutter barring Uzumaki's entrance came sliding up.

"Go on in. Mordin's probably in the back. Do whatever you have to do and get the hell out. Trouble seems to follow you like a bad odor."

Without a word further, Uzumaki continued on his way, entering the small building via the double doors.

Michael turned back to the counter of his security position, his assault rifle suddenly felt heavy.

'_I get the feeling today is going to be a strange day…'_

_{Inside the clinic}_

Uzumaki was already well accustomed to the nature of the clinic. He'd been here enough that the people here knew him by name…

His _REAL_ name.

He had yet to become accustomed to the awkward silence that would present itself whenever he entered a room full of 'normal' people. **Humans**, **Batarians**, **Turians**, all of the inhabitants seemed to give him wary glances.

For good reason though, the first time he'd come here, he'd been covered head to toe in blood…

Well _other people's _blood…

But that was what? Four or five months ago? Back when Aria was deadest on _asserting_ herself. It still amazed him how many mercenaries she could send after a person, and saddened him knowing that nearly all of them were cannon fodder. '_Ahh the people you can kill in a year…'_

Still, the clinic was better than **Afterlife**, where the people either ignored him all together or actually _wanted_ to test his worth. It was always a constant source of entertainment to see just how many **Krogan's **he could get to glare at his back when he walked through the dance floor.

'_No time for the nostalgia…gotta figure out how I'm going to get past this line of worthless meat sacks?'_

Indeed there was a line extending from another door on the opposite side from where he'd entered. Then again there was always a line; this was the only clinic on **Omega**. He really didn't feel like spending his free hour waiting in line for an appointment that would take the better half of 10 minutes. Luck was on his side though, one glance at one of the female receptionist at the desk and he instantly knew today's visit was going to be _very_ _special_. She made a hand gesture letting him know he was all clear. He stepped out of line and made through the hall on the other side.

It appears Mordin was expecting him. Best not to disappoint.

"Ahh there's nothing like the fresh smell of antiseptic in the…whatever time it is." He rounded a corner, casually walking past a box of military grade assault rifles and armor. It paid to have a smuggling business here on **Omega**. You could get all the supplies you needed and more.

The door to Mordin's _lab_ was wide open inviting anyone to come on in. He did just that. It was always fun to see what his favorite mad scientist was currently working on.

'_It better be my damn Omni-tool.' _he groused as he entered the room. As he anticipated, Mordin was looming over a white operating table with a data-pad in hand, going over notes. The room itself was a veritable mess, data pads lie scattered about, some on top of overturned crates others near computer terminals. Medical supplies of various shapes and sizes lined up against every wall of the room. Three out of four corners of the room held a weapon of some kind. Desks overturned, probably for a future shoot out. The room was a chaotic storm.

And at the center was Mordin Solus, **Salarian** genius, dressed in his standard white lab coat and red light armor.

While Mordin did in fact look busy, Uzumaki was in a bit of a rush. He still needed to shower and what not. So far he hadn't even acknowledged the blonds entrance into the room. That had to change.

"Yo doc? You done with my gear yet? I'm kinda in a hurry."

He was satisfied when the **Salarian's** head snapped in his direction. While Uzumaki wasn't too familiar with **Salarian** facial expressions, he was sure the orange skinned amphibian was smiling…or at least _trying _to.

That was never a good sign…

He dropped the data-pad on the operating table and addressed the male "Ah. Naruto. Happy to see you. Test's to conduct. Need fresh blood sample." Uzumaki was well accustomed to the speed at which **Salarian's** spoke. He'd killed enough of them to know how much a fast talking; fast moving and thinking enemy could cause problems.

"Uh, that's not why I'm here. I'm here for my Omni-tool…and a shower." He scratched the side of his cheek nervously. _Tests_ usually meant something _painful_.

"Ah. Physiology interesting. Want to test resilience and stamina. Need blood sample for analysis." He started fumbling with a set of syringes, readying himself for collection.

Naruto sat the suitcase down. Mordin was obviously deadest on a few tests. He honestly had no REAL reason to turn him down. _'Well, no reason other than my own wellbeing. Who knows, maybe he'll be able to give me about clue about my home…'_

"Sure doc, but only AFTER I get my Omni-tool back. I don't like this stupid wrist mounted doodad you gave me. It looks retarded as hell and it's clunky." He held up the wrist that had the bulky device attached. It almost looked like a giant watch, with a large screen housing several blinking lights and other details he didn't care for. His **Omni-tool** was precious to him though, a memento of the 'good old days'.

Mordin seemed to accept this as he sat the empty syringe down. "Experimental **Salarian** technology. Attempt at new type of **Omni-tool**. Originally intended for use in covert operations. Size was less than practical."

He stepped around the table, headed towards a small computer terminal. When he reached it, he immediately began punching buttons at breakneck speeds.

Naruto watched the man work. He'd assumed the repairs on his **Omni-tool** would already be complete, but then again Mordin was always a busy body. He probably kept himself so busy that he didn't have time to get around to it. He wanted to groan, he really did. Now he'd have to spend time waiting on him to finish the work and who knew how long that would take…

"Done. Apologies, forgot about repairs. Workload slower than usual."

Naruto fixed a glare at the scientist but said nothing. Mordin approached the blond with a small transparent, band like device. "Here repairs complete. Very old model, needed upgrade. Now easier to use, safer too."

Naruto observed the band before slipping the large watch-like device off of his right wrist. The two exchanged devices and Naruto slipped the band on his left wrist. He briefly winced when he felt it connect to the nerves in his arm. He'd probably never get used to that.

Mordin walked back to the table to retrieve the syringe and gestured for Naruto to come and sit on the table. Reluctantly he complied, taking a seat on the edge nearest to the door.

"I'm letting you know now doc, I absolutely _loathe_ needles. So you better make this quick." He mumbled as he eyed the doctor for anything _suspicious._

Mordin nodded and applied a small cloth dipped in antiseptic over one of the veins on his forearm. Naruto grimaced when the needle sunk into his flesh. He made it a point to look everywhere except his arm.

A few seconds later, Mordin pulled the needle out, satisfied with the amount. He abruptly turned around and walked to the back of the room near another set of terminals and began preparations for blood work.

"Very curious…"

Naruto looked up from rubbing his sore forearm and arched a brow.

"About what?"

Mordin lifted a few vials and pulled out a microscope from behind a small box of antibiotics.

"Carrying unmarked case. Given size and weight, most likely full of questionable supplies. Knowing you, intentions less than reasonable. "

Naruto let a smile draw across his face. "If that's your way of asking what I'm about to do then yeah, my intentions are far less than _reasonable_."

Though he couldn't see the frown that crossed Mordin's face, he could almost feel it.

"Motivation?"

"Unfinished business with a former…_associate_." Naruto paused to look towards the case near the door, then out the door to the room on the other side of the hall. Its contents very much like the one he was in, disheveled. It reminded him of the situation he'd been faced with just a year prior. He turned his attention back to Mordin and continued "Fist screwed me over pretty bad. He's part of the reason I'm even here on Omega, hiding from The Alliance, some greedy Merc's and any idiotic bounty hunter worth his salt." He finished with a growl.

He didn't exactly hate it here on **Omega**, but he preferred to live in comfort and not have to smell **Batarian** sweat: which smelled like week old piss.

He was forced to hide here on **Omega**, away from prying eyes.

"Fist irrelevant. Should be more concerned with Shadow Broker. Not entirely wise for you to head to Citadel space for any reason."

Naruto stood from his seat on the table and went to grab his case, arguing the whole way. "What other choice do I have? The Alliance wants me to rot away in a cell. The Council put a ridiculous bounty on my head. Every bastard I've ever had the displeasure of meeting wants to collect it and people keep sending incompetent assassins after me. Hell, even Cerberus wants me on a platter. One way or another I've got to put a stop to this. I figure snuffing Fist out is the _first_ step." He lifted the case and threw it over his back, gripping its handle.

Mordin peered to the right from the corner of his eye; he could easily see the apprehension hidden beneath the scowl he wore. "Not entirely untrue. Still, unwise to head into Citadel space. Fist working for Spectre. Best to leave well enough alone."

"He's working for a Spectre now? He betrayed the Shadow Broker to work for a _Spectre_? Damn, he really _is_ stupid."

"Indeed." Mordin agreed.

A deep, contemplative silence settled over the two. Naruto stood for several minutes thinking of future decisions and the ones he'd already made.

Still deep in thought, he turned to the exit and began to walk out when Mordin's voice caught his attention.

"Come back after shower. Should have finished initial testing. Looking forward to results." Ignoring the excitement in his voice, Naruto gave a single nod before he was out the doorway. He wordlessly shuffled through the crowded lobby and walked into a bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him.

_{One refreshing full body wash later}_

He had to admit, the bathroom's here were decent. At least, better than the one he had in his 'apartment'. It was probably more accurate to call it a 'shower room' rather than a bathroom since it had no bathtub or sinks. It had five fully functional shower heads on one end of the room and a set of mirrors on the other.

He was none too fond of his reflection right now, no matter how clean. Even with the steam from the hot shower, he could see his boxer brief clad body through the mist clouded body length mirror.

He _hated_ his reflection. _Hated_ seeing the way his skin was so _flawless_ despite the countless battle where he was wounded. He traced a finger over the black tattoo on his right bicep. Two bars leaning against one another forming an 'A' shape, with a small blue sphere in the center; the Alliance logo. The sting of memories from days long past swept through his mind. Times that had come and gone. He absolutely _hated_ how permanent this tattoo was. It was another brand and a constant reminder of what he _could_ have been. It was more than just something he could just _tear away_. It defined him…

'_But then again, everything I am is in my past. It defines me…and I can't stand that.'_

He wiped some of the mist away from the mirror. It wouldn't make a difference anyway…

His attention switched to the suitcase leaning against the wall to the left of the mirror.

It was time to gear up.

He pulled the case closer and popped the latches upward, unlocking it. With a grin he raised the top of the cases ready to marvel at its contents…

And _marvel_ he did.

Inside the case was his personal favorite, his 'battle suit'. To anyone else, it was just plain old light armor made for a plain old human…but he wasn't a plain old human and thus this was NOT plain old armor.

He had personally seen to its design himself, spending countless hours making sure all of the calibrations were to his liking. It did start off as simple Light Armor but after his upgrades, it became so much more.

'_If I remember correctly, I think I stole it from some Volus who stole it from some Quarian who stole it from Kassa Fabrication. Good deal too…'_

He pulled it from its place in the case, piece by piece. Since it was light armor, it could compress into a tight space for easy storage.

He'd personally saw to its appearance. All of the initial padding was bright neon orange from the boots to the chest plating. He slipped on the thin black full body suit required for all armor. Once that was done, put on each piece of armor and clasped it into place, feeling it compress and settle against his body. He silently thanked his foresight for getting the newer models, with built in holo helmets guards. They were useless in fire fights but in deep space, they served their purpose. Apparently they were made from the same technology as the Omni-tool.

Looking back down in the case, he saw the final piece of equipment. Something he'd had a Quarian jumpstart and Mordin help him finish.

Strapped to the top of the black suede interior of the case, was a…handle?

He pulled it from its resting place and smiled at the object.

"This is the most badass weapon I've ever held onto." He spoke held it in his outstretched right arm. He activated his Omni-tool keying in several commands beginning the process of syncing it to his nervous system. It was a fairly simple matter and much better than the alternative of installing a button. If someone managed to get it out of his grasp they couldn't use it against him, now he just had to wait until it finished loading. A light 'blip' sounded, alerting him to the process completion. With a little added pressure, a feint 'hum' slipped through the room then…

"SWEET! I love laser based weaponry" his screech of joy was well deserved as a bright blue light flooded the dim bathroom. His bright blue beam in the shape of a katana-esque blade. The blade, if he'd guessed, was about the same length of the _tanto_ he used back _home_, just perfect for close quarters combat.

He was probably the only person in possession of an energy based hand to hand weapon. Why didn't anyone think to make something like this?

He was pleased with himself, tightening his grip on the handle of his beam katana. He gave a few practice swings before he willed the blade away and placed it on the left magnetic patch on his armor's waist belt. He picked up his pistol, which he dropped next to the mirror and placed it on the right magnetic patch.

Going over his reflection, he smile fell, replaced by a more somber expression. "Things are going to get bad from here on. I've enjoyed enough time in the shadows. It's time to go on the offensive." With nothing left to say he walked to the door ignoring his case, it had no use now. Seconds later he was through the door and on his way back to Mordin's lab.

He noticed the lobby more vacant this time. Still, it didn't concern him. His stride to the lab was a casual one.

"Hmm.."

He heard Mordin's groan from the hallway, just before the door. Something was probably going to anger him.

"Hey doc. something wrong?" He called as he saw the Salarian hammering away at the same terminal he'd repaired his Omni-tool.

"Blood samples done. Results…unsettling."

'_Whoa, when I said 'get bad from here on' I didn't mean spontaneously…'_

"What do you mean by 'unsettling'?" He pondered the answer himself, none of them bode well.

When Mordin didn't respond he began to get a bit…unsettled himself.

"Mordin, what did you find?" He called, this time more serious.

Mordin stopped typing and turned his head to the blond, getting a look at him in his armor. "Results showed…foreign substances. Possibly unknown bacteria, possibly dormant virus. Hard to tell, never seen anything like it. "

While Naruto wasn't a biologist, he had a few basic ideas what the Salarian was trying to say. "So, you're saying I've been…injected with something?"

Mordin shook his head. "Possible. Analysis shows substance present for extended time period. Unlikely that it has been present since birth. Tell me. Have you had any recent inoculations?"

Now it was Naruto's turn to shake his head "No, not to my knowledge."

This seemed to further Mordin's troubled scientific mind. "Hmm…"

"How bad is it? Am I going to die? What's the stuff do?"

Mordin went back to typing on the terminal, his mind was racing, even for a Salarian. "Unknown. Unlikely that it is fatal. Require more testing. Need better samples. Certain you have had no recent inoculations…any in last 5 years?"

"Nope, not even when I was with the Alliance. I skipped out on the flu shots."

"Hmm…"

Naruto was becoming increasingly agitated. While Mordin was racking his brain trying to figure this out, he already came up with a few ideas as to _who_-or rather _what _did it.

'_I need to leave. It's better if I just do what I need to do and fade away.'_

"Well uh…I'll be going now. Traitorous assholes to kill and what not. I'll send you a post card from the Presidium." Naruto turned right around and dashed out of the room before leaving before Mordin could get another word in.

Mordin ignored his hasty exit and continued typing away at the terminal, trying to figure out this new scientific mystery. "Unsettling implications. What would Collector need with human. No, no. Not human. Anatomy all wrong. Blood cells highly oxidized. Bone structure too dense. Different somehow. What are you, Naruto Uzumaki? Needs further study… "

* * *

_{Break: Omega Docks_ _}_

* * *

'_No matter how outrageous they get, I still love the stories none the less. It's kind of a nice thing to know people are thinking about you. It probably comes from my child hood though. I always wanted attention as a kid, running around doing all sorts of stupid things just to get some kind of reaction. I think that now, after everything I've done in the last 12 years, I've more than earned a nick name or two.'_

Naruto sighed as he stood at the docks, waiting on the cargo cruiser he was supposed to be 'smuggled' in. 75,000 credits to sit in a box for an undisclosed amount of time…yay.

'_Everybody gives me a label. An alias to get familiar with me. It all depends on what the people want me to be seen as. Either a tragic hero or some deranged psychopath. I hear the names and I give them what they want to see. I don't really have a preference for anything else. I can be your best friend or your worst fucking enemy.'_

'_There's a special name that I allow only a select few to call me. The 'Orphan of the Stars'. It sounds pretty stupid but it has its significance. After all if it weren't for _them_, I would probably be floating around in space right now, still locked in that fucking bug pod.'_

"You Ragnarok?" Naruto looked up from the data-pad in his hand and came face to face with a brown scaled Turian space trucker. As usual, he towered over the blond, his mandibles closed in tightly; the equivalent to a frown for their species. Naruto noticed his clawed hand had found its way to the handgun attached to his left hip.

"Yeah. You're the guy who's taking me to the Citadel right? Let's get this field trip started."

"Eager aren't we?" The blond aimed a halfhearted glare at the Turian "Yeah, I'm fucking ecstatic. I can't wait to spend the next few days of my exciting life locked inside a crate full of who knows what."

The Turian didn't look impressed, giving him the same impassive stare most species reserved for humans. "Are you going to make sarcastic remarks or are you going to come along. I'm already running late on my route. Thank Aria for taking the time out of her day to help a fleshy meat sack such as yourself." And then he turned around and walked back to his cruiser, leaving the entrance to the ship open.

"Scaly-faced Asshole." Naruto muttered as he followed after the Turian. The sound of the shuttle doors closing served to finalize his time on Omega…

He would NEVER come back here again…

* * *

_{Break: Flashback}_

* * *

There was quite of a bit of time traveling between the stars. A lot of time to think. To remember. When you've got nothing but the next day to look forward too, the day before seems to become less and less significant. For Naruto, his past was slowly losing its meaning. He'd made a bold power move, to kill fist was a way of trying to set _something-anything_ right.

Still, he couldn't help but remember. The 'good old days'. When everything in his life went to hell.

**I can still remember the night my life changed…**

"_Come on already Naruto, give it up. We both know it won't work…" the chastising voice of one of his comrades, Sakura Haruno rang from behind him. He ignored her, as per the norm. Her tired voice bounced all around the tight confines of the vault._

"_Shh. If this works, we could be the richest bastards in the history of the entire world. Think about it. Wouldn't you rather spend your days in luxury knowing you have the millions in the bank to back you up? I personally need this more than anything else I can think of." He said as he continued hammering away at the small computer console in front of him. Fear was making him sloppy. Causing him to make more mistakes. He should've been able to hack this system five minutes ago…_

"_What about being Hokage? Isn't that your dream job? You're basically throwing all that away for a few million ryo." Sakura asked, genuinely curious. She ran a hand through her short, bubble gum colored locks._

"_Yeah a few __**million**__. I'm gonna sap all the money from those god forsaken Uchiha. I'm not leaving anything behind. Then I'll blame it on the Hyuuga and rob them too. We're robbing from the rich and giving to the…less rich."_

_Sakura's emerald eyes sharpened as she fixed a glare on her friends back. "So you decide that bringing me in on this scheme was a good idea? Did you ever consider that maybe I'd be content with my own income? That I actually looked forward to _**earning**_ my own place in the world? Besides, everything you've done is your own fault. You're the one who chose not save the money the Hokage gave you."_

_Naruto stopped punching keys on the banks terminal and spun around in his chair, giving the girl a bored look. "You're 12 Sakura; you don't know what you want yet. And I do not enjoy having to work for a living. The people of this village should pay us for all the bullshit we put up with. All I'm saying is a few key strokes and bam. We're rich. Some poor bastard takes the blame and we walk away the victor.? Why should I have to wait to claim something that's rightfully mine? I figure hey, why not take it all ya know? Doesn't that sound like a happy ending to you?"_

_Sakura watched him spin back around and sighed at his attitude. Something's would never change. "No, it sounds like the script for a B-movie. Is this what we went to the academy for? To break into banks and hack into the computer system? What about all those hardworking men and women who actually _earned_ their own money?"_

"_I wouldn't call it 'hacking'…it's more like…asset relocation. We're just moving their money somewhere it'll be appreciated, like say, my pockets. Besides, these people should have learned by now, shit happens."_

"_Whatever. Just hurry it up. You can leave me out of your little scheme. If we get caught I'll rat you out. I promise you that…"_

"_Thanks for that little tidbit." And with that, he began the process of finalizing the act of hacking into the Bank of the Fire Country. He had come so far. Months of planning, lying in wait, saving the money to create a false bank account. Acting like a good citizen…all of it was about to pay off…_

_He was seconds away from being the richest 12 year- old in the history of the whole fucking world…_

_And of course, a violent explosion had to take place outside, near the town square…_

_The computer monitor went black. Signifying a lack of power. Something had just taken out the generator for this sector of the city…_

"_What the fuck was that?"_

**I was being a very bad little boy but then again, I've never been a 'good' one either…**

"_How the heck am I supposed to know? Maybe it was an enemy invader?" Sakura answered frantically as she began moving back to the vault entrance they had pried open. They were out of the bank in milliseconds_

"_At 3:47 in the morning? What kinda of idiot would attack the capitol of the Fire Country? That's the single most retarded thing I've ever heard of!"Naruto yelled in frustration as they jumped from roof top to roof top._

_Sakura's wanted to counter that with 'Coming from the kid about to hack into a computer in a village full of highly trained, highly informed assassins?'_

_But the situation might have been dire. Best get to the heart of the problem "Naruto, we've gotta get back fast! If my mom notices I'm not at home…"_

"_Chill…I doubt it's something that serious…it's probably just some stupid, simple minded Iwa ninja trying to avenge his fallen comrades…"_

_At that, the duo skidded to a halt just outside the bank, glancing at their surroundings._

**I remember how the skies looked like giant whirlpools. Everywhere I looked, panic tore through the streets like a plague…**

_The streets had already been reduced to a mess. Debris lie everywhere, craters filled with oddly shaped…pods? The skies…_

"_What the hell is wrong with the sky? It looks like a giant toilet flushing backwards?" Naruto sputtered as he peered at the swirling clouds. From within the sky whirlpool, countless other pods rained down from the sky, impacting at several other locations._

_Sakura's panic kicked into full gear "What the hell is going on? What are those things? How are they coming from the sky?"_

**If I had known then what I knew now…things would've been different. **_**I **_**would've been different. I could've saved them…if I cared to.**

"_What are we going to do Naruto? These things are landing all over the village. Should we report to the Hokage"_

_Naruto looked around as the…pods hit various areas all over the village. Houses, shops, fields. No land was spared as they crashed against the ground, drilling into the very earth itself._

"_Uh, I think we should get the hell outta dodge, but that's just me." Sakura wasn't amused in the least_

_Seeing her stern expression, Naruto sighed in defeat "Fine, let's go be heroes. But if we die, I'm gonna be totally pissed."_

_The two ran toward the direction of the Hokage Tower, intent to report their findings and receive their orders. Whatever the case, it seemed like an act of war by some kind of invader._

_The shadows on the ground shifted and polled together, a figure pulled emerged from the growing patch of darkness. They watched in amusement as more and more pods crashed into the terrain, destroying whatever they came into contact with._

_A ominous cloud of black smoke appeared from the very top of each pod as someone…__**something**__ began to make its way out of each pod._

_The figure, standing in the wake of destruction smiled beneath its orange mask…_

_For whatever reason the Collectors had come to Konoha, they likely wouldn't be leaving until they got whatever they came for._

_And he would be making damn sure they got it._

* * *

**This. Right here. Is my. Ass. Kiss it? No, well…this is awkward. Anyway, as you can all plainly see this is nowhere near canon. The Naruto-verse is a planet inside the mass effect verse and blah blah blah, other stuff that might get explained. I'm just fucking around right now. Meh, he's all over the place isn't he? Sadly, I found this before I found my sanity. *sniff* it makes my non-existent soul weep in anguish. The second chapter of this is probably going to take me a while, considering how long this one took to finish but only Wesker knows (because he's god).**

**Well, I've got a bloody hamburger to throw myself upon. So, I'll see you folks whenever I suppose.**

**Don't get raped.**

**WordsmithofIron over and out.**


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